Julia

Chapter 4

A week after agreeing to take on Harvey Davis as a client, Stu Bailey had gotten exactly nowhere. He'd visited some of the people and places Davis mentioned – Julia's best friend, Bank of America, Smith and Sons Furniture. He was tired pf spinning his wheels about Julia, so he took a different approach . . . he started investigating Harvey Davis. He began with the current employer, Shulman and Jacobs, Attorneys at Law.

He called the offices of Schulman and Jacobs one afternoon when he knew all the attorneys would be in court or at lunch. He asked to speak with Thelma, Davis' secretary, and identified himself as Gregory Abbot. He was searching for the Harvey Davis that graduated law school from Stanford and worked for Brown and Hays before taking a position at his present firm.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Abbot, you have the wrong man. Mr. Davis graduated from Texas A & M."

"And he didn't work for Brown and Hays?" Stu asked.

"No sir, Mr. Davis was previously employed by Coleman, Phillips and Watkins."

"Thank you. I'm sorry for bothering you."

Now, at least, he had something to go on. He hurriedly got Coleman, Phillips and Watkins number from information and used the same approach. This time he unearthed the law firm of Perry and Taylor. The last place he found, Davis' first job after law school, was Dunwood, Smith and Cabot. Then the real work began.

It took Stu three days of intense digging but by the end of the third day he had a picture of Harvey Davis, and it wasn't a pretty one. He'd been suspended several times from Texas A & M, and his academic record wasn't impressive until he got into law school. Suddenly it was like he'd turned into a different person, and he graduated law school with honors.

Dunwood, Smith and Cabot hesitated when it came to giving him a recommendation. There was some problem with his personal life and his marriage to Mrs. Davis, and that was more responsible than his work. Stu was interrupted in his investigation by a phone call, then he settled back with his pipe to try and put his finger on exactly what was bothering him. It took him a few minutes before he got it – Mrs. Davis.

According to Harvey, he and Julia had been married for four years. Then who was Mrs. Davis of the Dunwood, Smith and Cabot era? Stu checked with a friend who worked for the Bureau of Vital Records and was startled to discover a previous marriage, to Catherine Marie Flint. After being transferred to a different department for a divorce record, he found one. Catherine Flint and Harvey Davis were married a little over a year.

Stu paused his research into Harvey's places of employment and went looking for the first Mrs. Davis. He found a phone listing for Cathy Flint and called the number. By the fourth a ring a melodious voice answered, "Hello?"

"Miss Flint?"

"Yes, who is this?"

"Miss Flint, my name is Stuart Bailey. I'm a private investigator trying to get some information on your ex-husband, Harvey Davis. I wondered if I might come ask you a few questions?"

There was a long pause before she answered. There was something different about her voice – sadness, curiosity, and one more thing . . . fear. "Who are you working for, Mr. Bailey?"

"I'm sorry, Miss Flint, I can't give you that information."

"Can't or won't?"

Stu sighed. "I can't, Miss Flint. Legally, I can't."

Another pause, while Cathy Flint considered the request. "Alright, Mr. Bailey. Do you have my address?"

"Is it still 591 North Belpre?"

"Yes."

"I'll be there within the hour."

Stu gathered his cigarette case, put on his jacket and left his office. "Suzanne, I'm going to Long Beach. I'll be back later."

"Au revoir, Stuart."

Kookie was back from the surfing championships and brought Stu's car around front. Five minutes later it was headed for Long Beach. This time of day there was little traffic and Stu arrived as promised, within the hour. He found 591 North Belpre, parked in front and took a minute to look at his surroundings. It was a small to medium house, constructed of bricks. It was plain but clean. He got out and headed up the walk to the porch; he only had to knock one time. The door opened partly. "Miss Flint? I'm Stuart Bailey. We spoke on the phone."

Cathy Flint stepped back and opened the door the rest of the way. She didn't say anything, just walked ahead of him into the living room. What he could see of the inside of the house looked very much like the outside – clean and plain. When she finally spoke she sounded more like the melodious voice he'd first heard. "Won't you sit down, Mr. Bailey? And ask your questions, please. The less time I have to spend thinking about Harvey the happier I'll be."

"I take it you wouldn't call the year you spent together as happy."

She laughed suddenly. "No, I wouldn't."

Stuart got out his small pad and a pen. "May I ask why?"

Cathy Flint, who was a petite blonde with hazel eyes, picked up a pack of cigarettes, took one out and allowed Stuart to light it for her. She inhaled and blew a long cloud of smoke out. "Do I really have to answer that, Mr. Bailey?"

"It might possibly help me a great deal, Miss Flint." Stu was willing to wait for the answer, for as long as it took.

She sat back in her chair and smoked for a while. It appeared she was debating several possible answers, and she was in no hurry to decide which one to choose. She finally stubbed out her cigarette and her posture stiffened. "Harvey was a liar, a cheat, a drunkard and, on more than one occasion, an abuser."

"Did he abuse you, Miss Flint?"

The answer was so soft Stu wasn't sure at first he'd heard her. "Yes."

"I'm sorry you went through that." Stu had put his pad and pen down and looked straight at her when he offered his apology. There was something about him that seemed kind, and gentle; something that made her believe him. He really was sorry.

"I survived, Mr. Bailey. I left Harvey, sued him for divorce and began using my maiden name again. I heard Harvey remarried, and I truly hope the current Mrs. Davis isn't your client."

"Anything else you think I should know, Miss Flint?"

"Yes, Mr. Bailey. Do you carry a gun?"

"Sometimes."

"And you know how to use it?"

"Yes, ma'am."

Cathy Flint smiled. "If you get the chance, would you please kill him?"

The look in Cathy's eyes had changed . . . to one of deep hatred. Stu saw it before she had time to look away. "Thank you for your time, Miss Flint. You've been very helpful." He found his feet and left the house as quickly as he could. When he got in the car he pulled out a cigarette and lit it, then started the engine and drove away as fast as the law would allow.

Stu shook his head slightly as he drove back to Hollywood, thinking about Cathy Flint's answers. They were disturbing, to say the least. The only thing he didn't understand was how Julia Davis had held out for four years, before she did the same thing Cathy Flint did after only one.